Let me preface this blog by saying that things might get a little sentimental (it could be because I am listening to Brian Adams, sitting on a flight back to Hawaii, and sure enough, Glee is playing on TV. Too much info? Perhaps), please proceed with caution.
I flew home for a night in the middle of November. My flight schedule consisted of this: Red eye to Minneapolis Wednesday night, arrived in Minny at Noon, flew down to Chicago around 3pm, training in Chicago Friday morning/afternoon, returned to Minny early evening, taxi to dinner on Friday night (night of the first big snowstorm), spent the evening at my sister’s place in New Brighton, and then flew back to Hawaii on Saturday morning. What the heck was I thinking?!
During all that travel, training, and experiences, there is one 4 hour span that I want to talk about. Knowing that I have yet to have the opportunity to connect with as many people as I would like to upon my return, we tried setting up a dinner for a small group of us Friday night. Arriving back in Minneapolis Friday night, I took a cab directly to a family owned Italian restaurant in St. Paul. Showing up an hour early, my eyes directed me to the bar where a cozy stool awaited. The restaurant name evades me as I write this, but it was nice, quaint, and ‘family owned’ is the best way to describe it. Prices were more than fair, the owners are pleasant, friendly, and proud of their restaurant. After all, it IS the oldest Italian family owned restaurant in the nation (didn’t realize this was a measurement).
Slowly, the group began to venture in. First, Tyler Kramer, part of Hayfield’s finest family. Shortly, after him, the largest group, Aaron (my brother in law), Kari (my sister), Erin and Jared (two of my best friends), and Patrick Riordan (diddo). Yarusso Brothers!! Just thought of it, what a breakthrough. I was fortunate enough to strike a wonderful relationship with the Yarusso owners and they were more than complimentary to me and the entire group.
After sitting down, our oddly mixed group brought together to have a good time simply lost ourselves in conversation, embarrassing stories, current happenings, silly things, and of course my sister’s big announcement. Kari, you out there? Do you care if it is on the blog now? (I guess time will tell). Just as we were to yell out the ‘congratulations,’ none other than Jon Lien and the beautiful Heidi showed up. Ah, two more fantastic people. This was it, they rounded out the group pleasantly: 9 brilliant individuals, good times.
The rest of the night consisted of drinks, going to a ‘police bar’ in St. Paul, and continuing to catch up with one another. Enjoying the connection, regaining laughs with the group, jibes and jokes, it was more than I could have asked for. It wasn’t until boarding the plane, alone in the airplane, that I realized how fortunate one can be to associate with these quality of people (with the exception of my brother in law, ha!)…kidding Aaron. We live in an age where connection is at our doorstep, the click of a finger, or even the switch of an online camera (almost creepy at times), yet there is still one problem with travelling; you can’t put a price to physical distance. We take this for granted every day, being physically close to the ones we love and those we cherish. I don’t have any wise words, but this is my blog and heck, I am reflecting J. The second reason that this blog took on a reflective nature is because my parents just visited me for 5.5 days in Honolulu.
I, and hopefully they agree, enjoyed a near perfect vacation. Site-seeing, time on the beach, introductions and new relationships, peace, quite, and space, what more could you ask for? Exhausted from the previous week, I again took for granted the distance my parents took to come to visit and the shortness of time. Sure enough, Sunday evening arrived and we were saying goodbye at the airport, arms in arms, reluctant to let go. Let’s rewind, what had we done:
1. Pearl Harbor
2. Turkey Trot
3. Thanksgiving in Ko’Olina / Lagoons
4. Pali Lookout / Manoa Falls / Watched Matt Zellmer and Luther play basketball (matt is an awesome blossom, great kid, and it was nice to have another ‘blooming onion’ in Hawaii)
5. Island Tour: Tantalus Road, H3 (beautiful drive), King Kamahamaha Highway (sp), North Shore, Haliewa, Shrimp Shacks, Hard Rock Waikiki
6.Brunch at Dukes, beach time, Airport. Early Sunday morning as I lay on the couch, staring at my computer, my mom walked over and said, “Kraig, I got teary eyed thinking about leaving.” Well, Mom, diddo as I write this blog.
Prior to the airport, we stopped by Barnes and Nobles to grab a couple of books, ate at Bubba Gump Shrimp, and then made our way to the airport. My parents said good bye to Kristina with heartfelt hugs, a gift exchange (they say thanks Kristina, and I believe my mom hugged the card after she read the message), and ‘see yah in Decembers.’ Each mile to the airport felt as though it were an inch. Have any of you ever felt this? The more you want to hold onto something, the faster time speeds up and before you know it, time passes. I even tried driving particular slow, but the brief traffic jam that I caused prompted me to speed up. Einstein talked about the theory of relativity from a certain perspective, and so did LL Cool J in Deep Blue Sea (Terrible movie, and this is my attempt to bring humor to this discussion). He simply said, “Put your hands on a hot stove and seconds feel like hours; put your hands on a hot girl and hours feel like seconds.” Different situation, similar concept.
Losing myself in conversation with friends and family, connecting with them, laughing, loving, those hours passed by as quickly as it takes to ‘see yah later.’ Losing myself in closeness with family, friends in Hawaii, days passed by as quickly as it takes to unravel ones arms from a hug.
Pulling up to the curb, we all seemed to operate in slow motion, still disinclined to step out of the car. Some of you may be blaming this slow motion on old age, but my parents are not that old.
Popping the trunk and stepping out of the car, it was funny to see my dad unfold himself out of the back of the convertible (just rented for the 4 days, relax guys). Grabbing the luggage, passing it over, we knew the moment had arrived. First, my dad, expecting the handshake and a partial hug, I hesitated for a second when he leaned forward with both arms for the real thing, a full hug; for as long as I can remember, I do not recall the last full hug between the two of us, but more important, I will always remember this one. The feeling of security when your dad wraps his arms around you is overwhelming, an escape from any worry that one might have. It happened here; I was blown away.
Next, mom. Mothers' hugs and are sappy, it is expected, but even though it is expected, there is no denying or even describing a mother’s love and the feelings that are shared when you hug your mom. It isn’t security or protection; oh no, to me it’s vulnerability, genuine emotion found in an action as simple as a hug.
Time, relativity, family, friends, connections, distance, tears. Goodbyes are difficult, but just as the sun continues to set and the plane ascends we must look forward to the last lines, the ‘see you laters’, the phone calls, the blogs, the instant messages and texts…For just around the corner, two weeks, two months away is a plane descending, a “Welcome Home,” giving us the opportunity to lose ourselves in conversation, love, and laughs once again.
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